Gwen was the first to speak, and as much as she tried to disguise her unease by slowly gripping her chin, her tail and fluttering wings betrayed her emotions.

  “That’s not good,” said the Alavari.

  “No, but that doesn’t change much. We’ll just have to respond in the old-fashioned way and negotiate with them as best we can,” said Jess.

  Gwen opened her mouth, but pursed her lips instead. “True, we basically know what Alastor and Forlana want. I’m just worried that they know about Rowena’s visions.”

  “I am too, but it may also be possible for Rowena to get around the scrying. That device is very large and it can’t be moved everywhere. If you focus on trying to look into anything in Forlana’s past then you may be able to find something,” said Jess.

  “That’s the problem, Jess. If they know Rowena is scrying, they could control what information they leak to us, even feed us disinformation,” said Gwen.

  Rowena raised a hand. “Both of you are right, but before we come to any decisions, I’d like to have lunch.”

  “About that, Your Highness, an invitation just arrived from the Sunflower Court. Princess Consort Forlana is inviting you and your friends to lunch,” said Lycia. She handed the message out to Rowena.

  “That was fast,” said the princess, knowing her guard had checked the message. She opened it up for her friends. “Standard invite, says it’s private. Alright, let’s get dressed.”

  “A moment, Your Highness. Colonel Sun wishes to speak to you, urgently,” said Lycia.

  “Alright, show them in,” said Rowena.

  She could instantly tell something wasn’t quite right when Sun stepped in. Their typical smile was gone, replaced by a thin-lipped grim expression.

  “Your Highness, so you are intending to attend the luncheon?” Sun asked.

  Rowena nodded slowly. “It’s the only way to prevent a possible war.” She wondered if the colonel was angry at her, but they didn’t seem to be glaring at her or anything of the sort.

  “I understand. However, should a fight or any conflict with Lapanteria break out, it’s my duty as commander of your escort to highlight our precarious position.”

  “What do you mean by precarious position, colonel?” Rowena asked.

  “In the event that Lapanteria decides to declare war, they may not allow us to freely leave the Sunflower Court,” Sun said, their curt tone dropping the words onto Rowena’s lap like stones.

  Gwen’s eyes widened. “Surely they must allow Rowena and Jess to leave! It would be the highest breach of diplomatic protocol! It’d close diplomatic channels and make any negotiated settlement far more difficult.”

  Sun turned to Gwen, a mirthless smile making its way on their lips. “And pray tell, young miss, what would Alavaria do if Lapanteria do attempt to imprison Jess and Rowena?”

  Gwen swallowed, silent, for they all knew the answer.

  “Go on, Colonel. How screwed are we?” asked Jess. Rowena nodded, gesturing to Sun as she braced herself on her chair’s arm.

  “Right now, Lapanteria just has their Royal Guard Garrison stationed around the palace and in the city, but they number about ten thousand. They won’t be able to bring all of them to bear; some of them will have to protect the palace and important personnel, but we would be fighting deep behind enemy lines with no hope of supply.” Sun pointed to the east. “Our only chance is to make a break for friendly territory. With fresh horses and an invitation, we made the journey in five days. We will have neither, which will likely lead us to take a fortnight if not more, because we will have to raid for supplies.”

  “That doesn’t sound sustainable,” said Rowena.

  “That’s because it isn’t, Your highness,” said Colonel Sun with a finality that made Rowena’s blood run cold. “If war breaks out and they do not let us leave, it is highly unlikely less than ten percent of this brigade can escape.”

  “I thought that the point of you and your soldiers escorting me was to prevent this sort of situation?” Rowena asked

  “Our job is to ensure you escape, which you will. I am proposing a plan that essentially will have different companies fighting delaying actions and clearing the road as you and Jess escape,” said Colonel Sun.

  Rowena took a breath, trying not to let what she was feeling show, but she couldn’t stop the tremor running down her hand. “That can’t be the only way. We’re all mounted, surely we can just break out together?”

  “We could, but the chance of us getting cut off by a large force and you being captured is far too great. If worst comes to worst, you need to escape,” said Sun.

  Every fibre in her body rebelled against what Sun was saying but she forced herself to nod. “I understand.”

  Jess raised her hand. “Colonel Sun, where would we meet you or how would we signal you if we need to leave?”

  “I have a hand mirror, you should call me and I’ll call you. If something does go wrong, rendezvous here at the mansion. We’re setting up certain countermeasures to ensure we can leave from here,” said Sun. The colonel flashed a calm smile at the pair. “Do you have any other questions, my ladies?”

  Rowena swallowed and nodded. “Yes. Are the name lists for the regiment up to date, with copies back in Erisdale?”

  “They are, Your Highness,” said Sun.

  “Good, thank you, Colonel. Is that all?”

  “Yes, Your Highness,” said Sun.

  Rowena rose, dipped her head and almost ran to her room to get changed.

  ***

  She’d just managed to throw on her outfit and was starting to get her makeup on when there was a knock.

  “Come in,” she said, not looking away from the mirror.

  Lycia and Georgia entered, closing the door behind them. “Your Highness,” they echoed.

  “Ah, sorry. I’ll be right—”

  Georgia coughed into her fist. “Your Highness, are you sure you are alright?”

  Rowena couldn’t look at her two guards, but she forced herself to. “If you are going to remind me that you might need to sacrifice yourself for me, I’m aware.”

  Lycia marched forward to take Rowena’s blush brush. Skillfully, she began to apply the foundation. “We’re glad you understand, but you need to get that out of your head and focus on the luncheon,” she said.

  “It’s not right for me to somehow be more important, just because I’m a princess!” Rowena hissed between gritted teeth, unable to move, lest she ruin her guard’s efforts.

  “Right or not, it is the fact of the matter, Rowena. I do wish Colonel Sun had approached it with maybe a bit more tact, but they are not wrong. Your survival is essential, more so than the success of these negotiations,” said Georgia.

  “I must be going crazy. Tristelle, tell me I’m going crazy,” Rowena muttered.

  The sword made a humming sound; a sigh if it could actually do so. “I wish it were so, Rowena, but your guards are correct. You know they are correct.”

  “And I’m just supposed to accept that? I know I can do it, be the princess, but how can I accept this?”

  “Accepting this is beside the point, Your Highness,” said Lycia, applying the blush to her cheeks.

  Rowena pulled back, forcing herself not to wipe the tears about to spill out of her eyes. “I can’t accept this, Lycia! I can never accept this! I’m just Rowena. I’m not supposed to be someone whose life matters more than anybody else’s!”

  Georgia grabbed Rowean’s wrist, her grip firm, but not painful. “Nobody is asking you to accept that, Your Highness. You may rail against this fact all you want and we’ll agree with you. We’re not happy about it either, but we’ve been dealt a hand. All we can do is to work with it, less the worst happens.”

  Rowena could feel her anger, her throat-clenching frustration deflating as she sat still, for her guards to dab the tears stinging her eyes with handkerchiefs.

  “I’m sorry for that.”

  Her sword bumped her gently. “You’re a teenager, Rowena. You’re allowed to be pissed once in a while,” said Tristelle.

  Rowena snorted and allowed herself to chuckle, noticing her guards relax and smile as well.

  “Thank you. I won’t let you down,” she promised, not just to them, but to herself.

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  ***

  The luncheon was out in the gardens of the Sunflower Court, which were predictably decorated with the eponymous plant.

  What was fascinating about the garden Alastor had chosen, however, was the extent it was decorated. They were to have lunch in the shade of a carefully manicured hallway of green vines that formed a verdant shade from the beating sun. To get to the grassy structure, Rowena and her party had walked through the palace gardens. Extensive hedgerows, cut trees, statuary, and flowerbeds formed geometric patterns that stretched out as far as the eye could see.

  It was such that Rowena had to support Jess as they reached the “Verdant Verandah” where the luncheon was to be held.

  Rowena had chosen to dress more masculine for this occasion with a military jacket decorated with two gold medals. One was embossed with an image of the bridge at Kwent and the other was of her mother. She’d been embarrassed when she’d received these from her father and mother, as they represented the bravery she’d shown in saving the town and her mother. She wasn’t so bothered by it now, especially since she knew that Forlana might not take too kindly to what these medals also represented. Tristelle hung from its scabbard riding beside her black trousers.

  Jess had decided to go more feminine this time, anticipating that she may need to mediate or reign Rowena in. It was all Rowena could do to tear her eyes from her girlfriend’s lavish light blue satin dress, which flowed around her shapely legs.

  As Rowena supported Jess on their walk, the shorter teen leaned up by her ear. “You like what you see, Wena?” she whispered, her voice husky.

  Unable to hide her flush, Rowena had to adjust her collar. “Yes.”

  “Would you like it better if—”

  “Get a room you two!” Gwen whined.

  Rowena hid her now red face with her hand while she struggled to breath normally. Jess had the senses to look abashed. “Sorry, Gwen. I thought I would try to help Wena relax. Though I seem to have made things worse.”

  “No. You were helping,” Rowena admitted, unable to get the image of her girlfriend’s half-lidded eyes out of hr head, even though she couldn’t face Jess at the moment..

  The Alavari shook her head, but she was smirking as she did so. “I did say that it may be a good idea to show you were being affectionate.”

  Jess blinked. “Oh, I wasn’t actually thinking about that. Are you sure it would be a good idea, Gwen? I mean, how would we know if Rowena’s parents would be fine with it?”

  “You’re dating, not necessarily officially engaged or anything, but the signal would be sent and the point made that in a stroke, Rowena’s legitimacy can be reinforced,” said Gwen. The Alavari’s smile turned almost evil, if not incredibly mischievous. “Besides, can you really keep your hands off of Rowena?”

  “If she asked me to, I certainly can!” Jess proclaimed.

  “I might have trouble asking you to,” Rowena admitted, causing both girls to look at her with wide eyes. The princess briefly smiled at Jess before coughing into her fist. “Alright, let’s not bother trying to hide our affection, but I don’t think we’ll necessarily need to draw attention to it. We’re here to talk and to hear what they have to say. We’ll find out what they want soon enough.”

  Gwen and Jess nodded and followed Rowena as they entered the Green Verandah.

  A circular table had been set up so Rowena and her friends faced Alastor and Forlana, with Forlana sat between her friends. Alastor and Forlana was not here yet, but their guards were so Rowena’s escort took their place beside the Lapanterian guards, whilst Rowena and her friends took their seats.

  A moment later, Alastor and Forlana arrived, holding hands. The prince was wearing gold and white, with a circlet on his brow. Forlana didn’t have such accessories, but had on a matching yellow dress decorated with Erisdalian-red bows.

  When the pair sat down, however, they did so at the same time. The facade of a prince and his merry bride slipping for a moment as the pair adopted somewhat different poses.

  Alastor leant back on his chair, the picture of relaxed devil-may-care, but his gaze was fixed on Rowena, and he was not smiling.

  Forlan was leaning forward slightly, arms braced on the table. She summoned the servants with a wave. “The meal, please. Would you like anything to drink?”

  “Hot water with some lemon will be fine,” Rowena said through her smile. She’d practiced it in the mirror quite a few times before breakfast and she was quite certain it looked…neutrally aloof. She did wonder why Alastor and Forlana didn’t seem to present the same front, but it could be a ploy. “Thank you for inviting us for lunch, Your Highnesses,” said Rowena.

  “You’re very welcome, Your Highness,” said Forlana, mirroring her smile, with the slightest bit of a crinkle at the edges of her eyes.

  Once her cup was filled by a servant, Rowena took a sip from her cup, noting her bracelet didn’t indicate any poison in her drink. “I do apologize for raising my voice at your wedding, Your Highnesses. You must understand that we were rather surprised by the revelations. I do hope that your wedding went smoothly otherwise.”

  The dishes were arriving, a tableau of sandwiches, pastries, and salads that were typical of Lapanterian cuisine. Rowena wasn’t paying much attention to them, however, as Alastor was rolling his eyes. He sat up straight, gaze levelled at Rowena. “It was quite enjoyable. I daresay that I hope for a new heir to Lapanteria soon.”

  He glanced at Forlana and was met by a cool gaze and a sly smile.

  Rowena touched Tristelle, thinking, “Is it just me, or is something weird about the two of them?”

  “It is not just you, Rowena. They have a…what do you call it? A weird ass vibe.”

  “Where are you picking this up from?” Rowena asked her sword.

  “During my free time! Wandering around Erisdale and Athelda-Aoun. You should do that more often. Will keep you in touch with the people,” said Tristelle.

  Rowena bit out of her sandwich, just to help herself think, not really tasting the food. “Is Lapanteria all this prospective heir may inherit?”

  Forlana and Alastor’s gazes shot back to Rowena, and for the first time in the luncheon, she could see them mirror each other’s expression.

  Hard eyes, stiff-backed, Rowena read what they were going to say before they spoke.

  “He or she will inherit all of my claims and titles,” said Forlana.

  “And Lapanteria may choose to enforce them,” said Alastor.

  Rowena put her sandwich down. “As I have mentioned, that is completely unacceptable to Erisdale.”

  Alastor shrugged. “Well I’m hardly divorcing my wife, Princess, so telling us that Erisdale won’t accept this will do nothing for relations between our kingdoms.”

  Keeping her voice level was getting incredibly hard and Rowena suspected—no, she was pretty sure that Alastor was deliberately trying to rile her up by playing dumb.

  “Prince Alastor, am I to take that as a sign that Lapanteria will fund Princess Forlana’s efforts to destabilize our kingdom and usurp my father and mother’s throne?”

  “We have said no such thing, Princess. Although…” Alastor met Rowena’s gaze, his smile sly. “Why don’t you recognize my wife’s claim? She is descended from King Oliver after all.”

  Rowena was about to speak but a tender hand pressed against her knuckles. It was Jess with her chin up, imperious gaze looking down on Alastor.

  “Rowena’s father and mother were appointed by King Jerome and my mother, Princess Janize, the last two legitimate heirs of House Grey,” Jess said, her gaze now circling to Forlana’s as she smiled almost sympathetically. “While I regret that our house did not treat you with any great kindness, Forlana, you have revoked any claim to our house when your servants made an attempt on my life.”

  Forlana tensed slightly, her gaze flickering between Jess and Rowena. “If Your Highness’s claim is so secure, then surely Erisdale has no issue with my marriage.”

  Gwen coughed, drawing the eyes of those seated. Her cold grey eyes locked with Forlana. “You and your accomplices are criminals, with warrants for your arrest across the continent. Your conspiracy has been at war with Rowena’s kingdom for years. Unless you are a fool, Prince Alastor, and I don’t believe you are a complete fool then you want something from Erisdale, or you want to go to war with them.”

  “Is that Alavaria’s official position, Lady Gwen?” Alastor asked, eyebrow arched.

  Gwen tilted her head slightly, her feathers ruffling a little, which made her look a little bigger. “Queen Titania is most displeased that your kingdom has not followed the Treaty of Athelda-Aoun and its terms stipulating mutual cooperation in suppressing continental threats. From the way I see it, there’s little reason for you to do something so provocative unless you wanted war, or something rather large.”

  Alastor narrowed his eyes at Gwen before looking back at Rowena.

  “I just want my wife to get what is rightfully owed to her. I prefer it to be peaceful of course. Your family will be offered substantial compensation for your troubles, but my wife is the rightful queen of Erisdale.”

  As Forlana nodded, smiling happily, the three girls had quite different reactions.

  Jess gawked and almost lost grip on her finger sandwich.

  Gwen’s expression warped into a twisted snarl, her feathers flaring before she clamped her wings to her side and gritted her teeth.

  Rowena blinked and stared, her mind having ground to a halt because…

  “Your Highness, that’s pretty much impossible. My father and mother couldn’t do that if they wanted to,” she said.

  Alastor rolled his eyes. “Oh come on, that’s absurd. They can abdicate!”

  Rowena shook her head. “Not for this. Not with these conditions. Our constitution does not allow the abdication of the monarch to transfer land or title to one not in the official line of succession. If there are no successors, then the kingdom is to elect a new royal lineage, and given the damage Forlana’s conspiracy has done to Erisdale, she’d lose.”

  “I mean, I suppose hypothetically your father and mother could adopt Forlana?” Jess asked.

  “But the ‘under duress’ clause comes into effect. A monarch cannot make changes to the line of succession during a crisis, unless said crisis directly endangers the continuation of the line of succession,” said Rowena. She frowned. “Did I get that right, Jess?”

  Jess drew circles around Rowena’s knuckle with her thumb. “Yes, you did. It’s why I could be made heir when your father and mother hadn’t had Jerome,” she said.

  “But then…” Rowena turned back to the glowering Alastor and the grimacing Forlana. “Why are you making this demand if you know our constitution forbids such an act from occurring? We literally can’t, even if we wanted to. Unless…” Rowena’s eyes widened. “You can’t be serious. You didn’t know we couldn’t, did you? Either of you?”

  Forlana continued to glare at Rowena, but for the first time, a hint of a quaver entered her voice. “Your father and mother are king and queen. Their word is law,” she said.

  “Oh shit tornado in a sewer. You don’t know. Erisdale drafted new laws and the key to this is the new constitution! My father and mother can’t do anything they’d like!”

  “You’re telling me that your father and mother, who can raise one hundred and twenty thousand soldiers, can’t abdicate to Forlana? How can you expect us to believe that kind of horse shit?” Alastor demanded.

  Rowena was so flabbergasted that she squeezed Jess’s hand to tell her to explain. Thankfully, her girlfriend got the signal.

  “How do you think our kingdom can mobilize that many people, Your Highness? Erisdale’s monarchy had given up certain powers so they can secure others. In return for something like the ability to mobilize, they can’t just pass land or title to whoever they see fit, among other compromises and agreements.”

  Forlana had gone very pale. “Impossible. How could Martin and Ginger agree to this? They’re the king and queen!”

  “And we have a duty to our kingdom. To keep it and our subjects safe, and that means we have to abide by the constitution of our kingdom,” said Rowena.

  Alastor looked thoroughly disgusted. “It is but a scrap of paper. You can’t possibly take it that seriously. Just change it, or ignore it. You’re the crown!”

  Rowena took a slow breath to buy herself some time.

  To be honest, her father and mother were popular enough that maybe there was a chance that what Alastor and Forlana were requesting could be fulfilled. However, something deep within her core rebelled at the thought. It was such a strong, sickening feeling that she felt like she wanted to vomit. She had no name for the feeling, or reason, just a sensation. It was all she needed to stiffen her resolve not to give in.

  “Let’s discuss the practicality of this proposal. Even if my parents believe you, even if we abdicate, override our constitution, how would this ever work?” Rowena asked.

  Forlana frowned whilst Alastor arched an eyebrow. “That’s none of your concern—”

  “I am the Lost Princess of Erisdale with a sworn duty to the kingdom and its subjects! People lost their homes, died, and sacrificed their lives fighting your conspiracy, Forlana! You want them to surrender? How can Erisdale accept a ruler who has done nothing but be a terrorist for most of her life? Whose compatriots kidnapped and sold a child into slavery?”

  Rowena was ignoring Alastor. Her eyes were only for Forlana. She didn’t point at the princess. One trembling hand was holding her dear Jess’s hand, the other was holding Tristelle’s pommel. Her attention, the full brunt of her anger from all those years and memories of choking for breath, was fixed on Forlana. Through gritted teeth, she shot at her rival, a question that she’d asked herself for years, but now wielded as a weapon in her nation’s defense.

  “Who are you to demand to be queen?”